


What Is Real Remains

by JHsgf82



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: AU, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Grief, Major character death (ghost), Minor Character Deaths, Romance, Supernatural - Freeform, reference to pandemic/childhood illness, reference to suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27450292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JHsgf82/pseuds/JHsgf82
Summary: {AU} After the untimely deaths of their parents, Katniss and her sister, Prim, move to a new home a few towns over with their Uncle Haymitch.  The house is large and unusual, and bizarre things happen there.  Katniss tries to explain away the strange occurrences, but the more happens the more she comes to suspect that their new home just might be haunted by the ghost of a boy who lived long ago.  Even stranger still is when Katniss begins to develop feelings for him.  Based on the 1995 movie, Casper.
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	What Is Real Remains

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter One Summary: Katniss, Prim, and Haymitch move into the manor. The place is in shambles, and they work to fix it up while trying to make sense of all the unusual things going on around there. Prim insists the place is haunted, but Katniss believes there’s a logical explanation for everything, that is until the ghost himself makes an appearance. 
> 
> A/N: Inspiration for Peeta’s family’s mansion based on Craigdarroch Castle, Victoria, BC. If you want to get an idea of what I had in mind, look it up. Think similar architecture but a bit smaller. Thanks to eiramrelyat for giving me the name Meadowlark Manor. And thanks to evestedic for the idea about the stove. 
> 
> The fever: Referring to Scarlet Fever
> 
> I don't own any rights to Suzanne Collins' The Hunger Games or her characters, nor the songs "Deep in the Meadow" or "The Hanging Tree"

Seventeen-year-old Katniss Everdeen stares out the window of her uncle’s beat-up old truck, watching rows of trees colored in reds, oranges, and browns zip by. Along with her sister, Prim, and her Uncle Haymitch, she’s headed to her new home.

The three of them needed a fresh start, at least according to her uncle, though Katniss suspects it has a lot to do with some debts he owed. But moving doesn’t bother Katniss. Her former town is so full of sadness, too jam-packed with memories and regrets that she welcomes it.

Katniss glances up from the backseat, catching sight of Haymitch in the rearview mirror. He meets her similarly-colored gray eyes and nods. Such is the way they usually communicate.

Haymitch isn’t Katniss and Prim’s biological uncle, though he has custody of them. Basically, he was the only one to take them after the inexplicable mining accident claimed their father’s life and their mother took her own several months later. That was nearly two years ago.

Katniss isn’t close to Haymitch like Prim is, and only Prim calls him uncle, but Haymitch and she have an understanding. Basically, they stay out of each other’s hair. Katniss had been planning to move out, get her own place once she turned 18, but she’s since decided she can’t leave Prim. She’d take her with her, of course, but Prim thinks Haymitch needs them. Thus, she’ll probably end up living with Haymitch and Prim until she’s old and gray, or at least until Haymitch passes or Prim gets married. As for her, she never plans on getting married.

Haymitch got a new job a few towns over as a mechanic and bought a steal of a home, which Katniss is anticipating to be more money pit than steal. But when they pull up a long drive and she sees the huge Victorian mansion looming in the distance, she begins to rethink that. More castle than mansion, really, her mouth drops open at the sight of it.

They get out of the truck, and the three of them stare up at their new home. It’s made of stone and brick with Romanesque arches and large, cylindrical towers. Katniss doesn’t know how many rooms the house has, but it must be a lot. And there are actual stained glass windows!

“Meadowlark Manor,” says Haymitch proudly. “Well, whad’dya think of it?” he asks when neither Katniss nor Prim speak for a couple of minutes.

“It’s...a bit much for the three of us,” says Katniss, folding her arms. “But you did good, Haymitch. How much did you say you paid for this?”

He tells her, and she nearly drops. Even if the inside is a shambles, the sheer size of it, not to mention the grounds, is enough to account for at least ten times what Haymitch paid.

“How did you get it so cheap?” she asks, wondering if it’s even livable. Perhaps it’s days away from collapsing, though the foundation looks solid.

“It’s not condemned, is it?” Katniss asks.

“Nah,” says Haymitch, “inspection checked out.”

“So,” she shrugs, “what gives?”

“Well, it’s kinda historical, I guess,” he tells her. “And part of the deal was keeping it up, being the caretaker of sorts, and occasionally allowing tours to go through.”

Oh great, so there’ll be groups of strangers randomly traipsing through their home?

“Haymitch...,” Katniss begins in a low tone.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Realtor says there probably won’t be many tours booked on account of it’s haunted.”

“Excuse me?” balks Katniss.

“Yeah, she says strange things happen here all the time.” Haymitch’s eyes bug out, and he wiggles his fingers for effect. Katniss rolls her eyes. She doesn’t believe in ghosts, spirits, or anything of the sort. She doesn’t even think it’s likely there’s an afterlife.

“You’re joking.”

Haymitch guffaws. “Yeah, I didn’t believe her, either. But hey, it knocked thousands off the price, so the place can be haunted if it wants.”

Katniss sighs.

“‘Course come people do go for that haunted sh-stuff,” he corrects himself at the sight of Prim’s big blue eyes, “so, we might get some people coming through or wanting to stay the night.”

 _Fantastic_.

Katniss is about to argue that she doesn’t want anyone coming in when Prim speaks up. “Do you really think it could be haunted?” She tugs on Katniss’s sleeve.

“Good going, Haymitch. You scared Prim,” chides Katniss, wrapping an arm around her thirteen-year-old sister.

“I’m not scared, Katniss!” she exclaims, looking up at her. “I’m fascinated!”

And so, Haymitch goes on.

“Well, I heard tell the place was commissioned over a hundred years ago by an eccentric entrepreneur billionaire by the name of Mellark. Mellark had three boys who lived with him in the house, along with his wife. Unfortunately, the entire family died of the fever, and now the place is said to be haunted by the ghost of the youngest son.”

Prim’s eyes widen, and Katniss shoots Haymitch a dirty look for saying such things in front of sweet and innocent Prim. She’ll give him a piece of her mind later. For now…

Fidgeting with her braid, Katniss’s gaze drifts from Haymitch up to the highest turret, and she thinks she sees a shadow pass across the window. She cranes her neck for a better look, but whatever it was is gone. She shakes her head. It was probably just a tree branch or bird or something. Stupid story nearly got to her.

“What is it?” Prim asks, concerned.

Katniss smiles down at Prim. Beautiful Prim, always fresh as a raindrop. Blonde-haired and blue-eyed, she favors their mother, whereas Katniss favors their father. “It’s nothing, Little Duck,” she says, tucking back a lock of loose hair. “Why don’t we go inside and check it out?”

They take the stairs and enter together.

Inside, there’s dust and cobwebs everywhere, hanging from sconces and chandeliers, and a broken chair near the doorway. The trio wanders through the foyer and into the living room. There are a few wooden chairs in-tact and one of those old Victorian sofas made of hand-carved mahogany and floral and vine patterned upholstery. There’s a sandstone fireplace with a thorn and leaf design and a Shakespearean quote carved into it.

Haymitch runs a hand over the mantel of the fireplace. “Realtor says there are 17 fireplaces in the house, but I didn’t count ‘em.”

“Seventeen,” muses Katniss. “Well, the place’ll be well-heated, won’t it?” Off to the side, Prim snickers.

Katniss’s eyes then rise to the old-fashioned chandelier hanging over a mahogany coffee table, and she wonders if the electricity works, so she tests it. The lights take a moment, but they come on. She nods approvingly until they begin to flicker unnaturally.

“Katniss...you suppose the ghost is doing that?” Prim’s voice quavers slightly.

“No.” She shakes her head. “The wiring’s probably just old.”

Haymitch agrees then leads them into the kitchen to test the pipes. That's when Prim catches sight of the vintage stove. “Wow, how fancy!” she exclaims.

 _How old_ , thinks Katniss. Although, it must have been an expensive one in its heyday, and now probably an antique.

“Do you think we can cook on it?” asks Prim.

“Don’t see why not,” says Haymitch. “Supposedly all the appliances work. Might want to clean it out first, though.” Meanwhile, he checks for running water. He turns on the faucet, and though it sputters at first, it works.

They continue through the house, stopping in or at least walking past every room: the library, which is filled with books, the study, dining room, parlor, and the bedrooms. They finally make it to the attic, but the door is locked. Haymitch tries to bust his way in as he says he wasn’t given any key, but it’s jammed pretty good.

“Oh well.” He shrugs.

They head back down the long spiral staircase, and as they do, Katniss hears sounds coming from behind the door. There’s a squeaking sound, then a scratching sound. _Probably a rat_ , she thinks. She’ll have to lay out some traps if she can manage to get in there. There are probably a multitude in here, she shudders to think. Not that she’s afraid of rodents; it’s more a matter of health as they are unsanitary.

Standing at the base of the stairs, Haymitch places his hands on his hips. “Well, she’s a bit of a fixer-upper.”

“I’ll say,” agrees Katniss. The place definitely needs work; even so, it’s plain to see that it was quite extraordinary back in its day. Katniss can appreciate the appliances and unique architecture as well as the creative mind that went into designing it. The beds seemed a little hard, but she’s not complaining.

“Welp, least we have all weekend to work on it before you girls go to your new school.”

“Oh, goodie. All weekend, Haymitch? Well, that seems like plenty of time,” deadpans Katniss. They’ll need all year to get this place up to snuff. And she knows who ‘we’ will consist of, mainly her and Prim. Haymitch will start to help, lose interest after twenty minutes or so and say he’s going to take a break and have a drink, and then he’ll forget all about it and say they should just leave it be.

No, if she wants this done, she’s gonna have to do it herself. 

* * *

It doesn’t take long for those strange things Haymitch spoke of to begin happening. For instance, as they’re carrying their luggage in, Haymitch unexpectedly drops his suitcase, and the top, which Katniss was sure she saw zipped, flies open, his clothes spilling out. Haymitch curses and bends to pick everything up.

That one wasn’t too bad and could be explained, but it only gets worse from there…

After unpacking, Katniss and Prim decide to do some cleaning, only light cleaning as they’re exhausted from a long day of being in the car and moving in. The lights flicker several times as they dust the sconces, and they hear stomping footsteps in the hallway and on the stairs to the attic when they know Haymitch has gone down to the basement to check the boiler.

Next, they hear music. It sounds like someone is playing the piano in the study. Haymitch doesn’t know how, and Katniss doubts he’d fool with it.

“Did...did you hear that?” whispers Prim.

Katniss nods and decides to go investigate. Prim follows close behind, clutching the back of her shirt. Katniss opens the door to the study to reveal no one there, and the piano has stopped playing. Her eyes scan the room, focusing on a painting over the piano, a family portrait. There’s a blond man, a brunette woman, and three blond boys. It must be the Mellark family Haymitch mentioned. As Katniss is studying the painting, all of a sudden, she hears a fluttering sound, and the pages of the sheet music turn one by one, increasingly faster. Both girls gasp, and Katniss pulls Prim back and slams the door.

“You-you saw that, right, Katniss?”

“I did,” she says.

“It was the ghost!”

“No, it was just the wind.” A weak excuse.

“But Katniss, the window was shut.”

“Well...,” she thinks a moment, “Haymitch is messing with the heat right now. Maybe it kicked on right then and blew the pages.” Katniss knows she’s reaching, but she wants so much to put Prim’s mind at ease. And it would be a hassle to move again and a shame to give up such a large place at such a good price, so she wants to make this work.

Prim’s brow is all wrinkled up, and she’s playing with her fingers.

“Don’t worry, Prim. I can’t exactly explain these things that are happening, but it’s not a ghost." 

Katniss refuses to call it that. She doesn’t know why she’s getting hung up on semantics when clearly, something is going on. She supposes it's because she's a woman of science; she wants to be a scientist someday, and that means she has to come up with a logical, factual explanation for everything she encounters. She’s working on this case…

“Well, whatever it is, let’s hope it’s friendly,” replies Prim. Katniss can’t agree more.

Of course, if it were friendly, it wouldn’t be doing these things. It hasn’t tried to physically harm them, so it’s either playing games or just wants to scare them away.

But no, it’s just a figment of their imaginations. The fact that they’re both experiencing the same figment is what Katniss is having trouble with.

* * *

Katniss soon discovers that the ‘ghost’ seems bound and determined to scare them, and it continues with its little tricks. It pulls out all the cliche stops: more lights flickering, books flying off shelves, unexplainable noises…

 _Is that the best you’ve got?_ thinks Katniss sardonically, still refusing to buy into the whole thing. Although, it’s becoming increasingly hard not to. The real question is: If there are paranormal forces at work, are they dangerous?

So far the happenings have been mischievous pranks, and Katniss has managed to come up with an explanation for everything for Prim. She’s not quite sure she believes her own justifications, but she had to reassure her little sister somehow.

Prim has practically been tied to Katniss since they stepped inside the house, so she’s surprised when Prim wants some time to herself to work on her new bedroom. Very reluctantly, Katniss agrees to leave her sister alone in her chosen room, only two doors down from hers.

“Prim, yell for me as loudly as you can if…” _If anything remotely unusual happens..._ “If you need me,” she finishes as she steps through the doorway.

“I will,” says Prim.

“Be careful.” Prim stares at her. “I mean, if you get up on the step ladder or something,” Katniss adds.

“You too.”

For a minute or two, Katniss watches Prim’s back as she goes about her business. Then she steps out, taking one last quick glance into the room. She hates leaving Prim alone, but she can’t make herself believe the place is haunted and that they could be in any kind of danger. It’s just not possible. They had to have imagined all those things. Telling herself Prim will be fine and that nothing in this house can harm her, Katniss pads off to her own room.

After wiping her chest of drawers down inside and out, Katniss begins to fold her clothes and put them away. There’s also a large closet and a room separator in the room. She hangs a few items in the closet, after batting away the cobwebs. It’s a much larger closet than she’s used to and she doesn’t have many clothes, she thinks, observing the huge gap left.

_What in the world did a family of five need with all this space?_

Suddenly, a fire roars to life in the fireplace in her room, not a spark, but actual flames.

“Oh, my god,” mutters Katniss, bringing a hand up to her mouth.

She inches her way over to inspect it. There must be some explanation. Someone was here before them and left an ember...and that ember combined with the oxygen in the room and spontaneously combust...or something.

Katniss stares into the flames, deciding this is a good time to say her mantra...

Back when she briefly saw a therapist after the passing of her parents, he told her to say something to keep herself grounded to reality when she had nightmares. It was the one useful thing she took from therapy.

“Stick with what you know to be true,” she begins as she was taught. “My name is Katniss Everdeen. I’m 17 years old. My home was District 12. Now I live at Meadowlark Manor. My sister is Primrose; she’s the only person I love in this world. I live with Prim and my father’s best friend because my parents are dead.”

Not exactly a reassuring mantra, but it does the trick.

Katniss pauses, lifting her eyes and swiveling her head all around, and she adds one more thing. “And...there may be a ghost haunting my new home...”

In that moment, she hears Prim’s scream.

Katniss’s body goes cold and hot all at once. “Prim!” she shouts, and she takes off running. Panic grips her, squeezing her heart like a vice. She mutters curses under her breath, warning the ghost (or whatever it is) that if it harms her sister she’ll kill it all over again.

“Prim! Prim! Where are you? Primrose!” she screeches when she can’t find her in her room. She looks frantically around, but the damn place is so big she could be anywhere.

“I’m here, Katniss!” Prim calls out.

“Where?”

“In the closet!”

“The closet? Which closet?” She begins ripping open door after door, finally locating her.

“Prim!” Katniss kneels beside Prim who’s half-seated, half on her back in the closet. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Prim nods. “I think so.”

“Did you twist your ankle or hurt your back?” she asks. Prim shakes her head. “Can you stand?”

“Yes, I think so.”

Katniss pulls Prim onto her feet and out of the closet, and she hugs her tightly to her chest. “What happened?” she whispers against her hair as she strokes it. She pulls back to look at her, resting her hands on her shoulders. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“It was nothing, really. I...well, it was kind of stupid.”

“You're not going to tell me the ghost shoved you in there and tried to lock the door, are you?” Katniss wouldn’t be all that surprised if that was exactly what happened, not after what she’d witnessed in her room.

But, could the ghost have gotten to Prim that quickly after starting the fire in her room? Maybe there was more than one...Mellark did have three sons, after all. If that’s who was supposedly haunting the place…

“No, I was looking through the closet; I was reaching up, and I just kinda lost my balance and tripped over that box down there.”

“Oh, Primrose.” Katniss smiles fondly and kisses the top of her head. “Please be more careful. Don’t need you falling down the stairs.”

Katniss is stricken with fear then. More than likely, this incident was caused by Prim being her klutzy self, but if there is a ghost...what if it does try to shove Prim down the stairs or over a railing. White-hot anger bubbles up inside of Katniss.

Haymitch must’ve heard the commotion and has come running. He helps Prim to her room and settles her onto the bed while Katniss goes for an ice pack.

On her way down the hall, Katniss raises her eyes to the ceiling. “Listen, you, whatever you are,” she mumbles in a low, cautionary tone, “I don’t believe in you, but if you do so happen to be real and you can hear me, know this. You can do whatever you want to me, but don’t mess with that child in there. Because if you harm a single hair on her head, I won’t stop until I’ve hunted you down and sent you straight to hell.”

It’s an empty threat. She really has no idea what she’s up against nor any power to combat it. Besides, she’s still disinclined to believe in its existence. This was just another mishap. It’s been a day of bad luck and mishaps, nothing more. But just in case, she’ll cover her bases.

* * *

Oddly, her threat seems to have worked, and things are relatively quiet after that, at least for her. But after their supper out, Katniss is on her bed reading when she hears a light rap on the door. She looks up to find Prim there.

“Uh, Katniss…”

“Yes, Little Duck?”

“You know that thing you’re not calling a ghost…?”

“Yes.” _What has it done now?_

“Well, it just made Haymitch drop his glass of liquor, and it shattered.”

Katniss presses her lips together. “Prim, that’s easily explained. Haymitch is probably drunk and his coordination’s a little off.”

“Three times it happened.”

“Completely possible.”

“Yeah, well, I saw it, and the third time, it didn’t just drop. It went flying out of his hand and landed about 10 feet away, and _then_ it shattered.”

“Huh. Seems our ‘ghost,’” Katniss uses air quotes, “has a little prohibition thing going on.” Katniss is trying to make light for both their sakes, but Prim doesn’t find her joke amusing.

“Sure he didn’t throw it himself?” Katniss offers.

Prim shakes her head slowly, and Katniss sighs.

“Primrose.” She fixes her sister with a somber look. And then they both hear it, the faint sound of laughter ringing from the ceiling.

Well, the ghost must be done with subtlety.

“Did you…?” Prim begins.

“Uh-huh.”

They hear the laugh again, and Katniss and Prim clutch onto one another, shivering. But it’s not evil or maniacal laughter; it’s more...playful. Not exactly childlike; it’s got a deeper, raspier quality.

They go to Haymitch then, telling him all they’ve seen, and Katniss asks about the glass incident.

“Yeah, wasss the darnd-de-dest thing,” says Haymitch, “I jussst could-couldn’t hang on to it!”

Katniss frowns. He’s already three sheets to the wind, so he’s absolutely no good to them.

* * *

That night, Prim is too afraid to sleep alone, so Katniss promises to sleep with her. She climbs into her sister’s bed, and Prim curls up at her side. “Katniss?” she says after a couple of silent minutes pass.

“Yes, Little Duck?”

“Do you think the ghost will come in and...do something while we’re asleep?”

“No,” says Katniss gently. “And it’s not a ghost, remember?”

“Then what is it?”

“Nothing, Prim. It’s nothing but a series of coincidences. Our minds are just overactive from the stress of moving and from that story, and we’re fabricating these things.” Katniss almost convinces herself.

“If you say so, Katniss.” Prim’s eyelashes flutter. She’s obviously exhausted, but she’s fighting it, probably out of fear.

“Do you want me to sing?” asks she. Prim nods.

 ** _Deep in the meadow..._** Katniss begins.  
 ** _Under the willow_**  
 ** _A bed of grass_**  
 ** _A soft green pillow_**  
 ** _Lay down your head and close your eyes…_**

Prim’s eyes close all the way, then. Katniss kisses her forehead and continues.

_**And when they open, the sun will rise** _   
_**Here it’s safe** _   
_**Here it’s warm** _   
_**Here the daisies guard you** _   
_**From every harm** _   
_**Here your dreams are sweet** _   
_**And tomorrow brings them true** _   
_**Here is the place where I love you…** _

Katniss strokes Prim’s hair and hums softly until she falls asleep. Once she’s sure Prim is out, she whispers to the air in the room, “Remember our deal. If you’re angry about something, take it out on me, not her. Or my uncle. Just me.”

The oil lamp extinguishes without her touching it, and Katniss wonders if that’s the ghost’s way of acknowledging her request. Anyway, she stays awake for hours, just in case. It’s completely quiet, though, aside from the ticking of the clock on the wall and the occasional distant hoot of an owl outside in a tree, and eventually, Katniss drifts off.

* * *

The next morning, Katniss wakes to the sun streaming in the window. To her great relief, Prim is still wrapped safely in her arms, breathing steadily in and out, and she feels surprisingly rested. Katniss releases a breath. She was tired and stressed yesterday; they all were, but today is going to be different. No more strange happenings; no more eerie hallucinations. With renewed determination, she attempts to slink out of bed without waking up Prim. But it’s as if losing her cocoon of warmth was all it took, and Prim opens her eyes.

“Where are you going?” mutters Prim, childishly poking out her lip in protest. Honestly, Katniss is shocked Prim still wants to snuggle at her age, but it probably has something to do with being in a new house (and a lot to do with the distant possibility of the existence of the ghost).

“I’m going to clean out that old stove today,” she tells her.

“Really?” asks Prim.

“Yeah, then maybe we can use it. It’s a nice, vintage stove, and I’d like to see if it still works. If it does, we can all have hot, square meals. Can’t let Haymitch keep having sandwiches and beer for every meal, and I need to make sure you eat properly, too. You’re too skinny, Little Duck.”

“Okay.” Prim smiles.

“So, go back to sleep for a bit if you want.”

“Okay.”

Katniss glances around the room. Everything seems quiet and normal, so either the ghost listened to her; it likes to sleep in, or she really did imagine the whole thing. The latter explanation seems most likely.

And so, Katniss goes to her room and strips out of her pajamas. She could use a shower, but there’s no sense in taking one when she’s just going to get filthy, so she puts on a ratty old tank top and ripped jeans. Then she trots down the long spiral staircase and heads into the kitchen.

She surveys the stove. It’s old and dirty, for sure, but it could be nice if fixed up. It’s definitely not in bad condition for its age. She searches for the box of cleaning supplies, finding the unlabeled box after trying a few. Then she dons rubber gloves and sets to work with some oven cleaner, an old rag, and a scrub sponge.

While she scrubs away, Katniss is suddenly reminded of a favorite song of her dad’s, and she starts to sing it…

_**Are you…?** _   
_**Are you...comin’ to the tree?** _   
_**Where they strung up a man** _   
_**They say who murdered three** _   
_**Strange things did happen here** _   
_**No stranger would it be** _   
_**If we met...at midnight...in the hanging tree…** _

Singing or humming all the while she works, Katniss manages to remove some of the build-up, but it’s pretty caked on. She finally resorts to a baking soda, water, and vinegar mixture, which her grandmother taught her about, and it does the trick.

Katniss has spent the better part of the morning cleaning the ancient stove inside and out, and it’s in much better condition now, practically sparkling. Satisfied and covered in grime, she decides it’s time to call Prim in to see her work. Prim wanders in after several shouts of her name.

“Wow, it’s so shiny now!” exclaims Prim as she enters the kitchen. “Good job, Katniss!”

Katniss grins widely. “Now maybe we can cook on it.”

“Hopefully it works,” says Prim, crossing her fingers.

“Silly superstitions,” teases Katniss.

Speaking of which… Her eyes flit around the room. Still no sign of the ‘ghost’ today. Hopefully, that insanity has passed. She thinks to ask Prim if she remembers anything about it, but she foregoes.

“We’ll have Haymitch check it out, and then I’ll cook some breakfast for us.”

Prim nods. “Sounds good. And it looks great. _You_ , on the other hand…” She gives Katniss a once-over. “I think you better shower.”

“I was just about‒” Katniss’s stops short, and her mouth drops open. “What...the...hell?” she mutters, staring out across the room. Prim gasps when she sees what Katniss does.

 _Not again_ …

This time, it’s a glass vase floating–yes, _floating_!‒across the room toward them.

Katniss steps back, pulling Prim along with her. And she positions herself between Prim and the vase, which is just floating along toward the table.

Strings. She’s looking for strings…there’s gotta be strings somewhere...or-or something!

Katniss waves her hand in the air above and below the vase. Nothing but air. It floats past her and into the sink, hovering under the tap. There’s a creaking sound as the old knob turns, and the vase begins to fill with water. Katniss and Prim stare, transfixed. Another creak and the water shuts off. Then the ¼-full vase floats over to the kitchen table and sets itself down gently.

Katniss places a hand over her mouth, and Prim is grasping the back of her shirt, tugging. “It’s the ghost again!”

“There’s no such thing, Prim,” retorts Katniss vehemently. Although, she can’t really deny it any longer, can she?

Several seconds pass, the two sisters holding onto one another, and then the kitchen window slides up. After a minute or so, a bouquet of yellow flowers‒primroses, Katniss identifies‒floats through the window.

_What’s happening?_

The primroses tuck themselves into the water.

“Shit.”

“Katniss!” scolds Prim.

“Seriously, Prim? After what we just witnessed you’re gonna criticize my language?”

That same laughter from before echoes off the walls. The sisters’ heads whip all around; then their eyes focus back on the vase of primroses to see if anything else is going to happen.

“Aww, you know what? The ghost gave you flowers, Katniss!”

“What? What makes you say that? They’re _your_ namesake, Prim.”

“Yeah, but he set them before you. He must be trying to apologize.”

“How do you know it’s a he?” _Of all the things to ask. Like that’s the important matter here._

“Duh, the laugh,” says Prim. “It’s obviously a male laugh.”

Prim’s right. The laughter is deep, but not like a man’s. It’s not gruff like Haymitch’s, either; it’s smoother and sounds more like that of a teenage boy, one who’s already gone through puberty.

Katniss can’t believe she’s analyzing the vocal tone of a spirit…

“Excuse me, Ghost Boy,” calls out Prim fearlessly. “Can you talk?”

“Prim!” Katniss hisses.

“What?” shrugs Prim. “If he was going to hurt us, he would have done so by now, right?”

Katniss is not so sure. She takes a protective hold of Prim’s shoulders and keeps a vigilant eye for any floating knives or the like.

“If you can talk, please knock on the wall once,” commands Prim.

They hear a knock.

 _Holy shit_. Or unholy.

That’s not the strangest thing to happen since their arrival, by far. But it is something entirely different, to directly communicate with the spirit rather than just witness it making unusual things happen.

“See, I told you, Katniss! There’s a ghost living in our house!”

Maybe Prim was right all along, and the ghost _is_ real. Katniss is having a hard time coming up with an alternative explanation right now. Maybe...maybe Haymitch has been hiding somewhere, doing a really good job of screwing with them this entire time. Yeah, _yeah_ , that has to be it. She’s gonna kill him…

“Excuse me,” continues Prim, “could you please tell us if you are bad or good?”

Katniss exhales sharply.

They notice an old chalkboard on the wall, and they see a piece of fat, white chalk rising in the air. It starts to scrawl on the board.

 **‘You tell me’** is written.

Prim grins. “Well, I don’t know yet! You seem a little naughty to me!”

“Prim.” Katniss shakes her head, but admittedly, she’s curious, too. “Did you shove Prim in the closet?” she speaks up loudly. If it did, she’s prepared to lecture it on bullying little girls. Not that it would do any good…

 **‘No’** it writes.

“See, Katniss. I told you I just tripped.”

“It could be lying,” Katniss says. “Did you start the fire in the fireplace in my room?”

**‘Yes’**

“See, he’s honest,” points out Prim.

Honest yet mischievous, and possibly malicious. They don’t know yet. Of course, what was with the flowers?

“Why did you do it?” asks Katniss.

**‘You looked cold’**

“Oh, I see we have a smartass ghost on our hands,” Katniss mutters, folding her arms across her chest and still sticking like glue to Prim.

“Hm, what should I ask him next?” asks Prim excitedly as if this is a game. She taps her chin. “I got one! Ghost boy, what do you think of my sister?”

_Oh, for the love of…!_

The chalk begins to write again.

**‘Scowls a lot’**

Prim laughs. “He’s funny.” And Katniss, of course, scowls.

“And right about that.”

Katniss sighs.

“Anything else?” Prim asks in a raised voice.

“Primrose…,” Katniss cautions.

But the chalk is already writing. **‘Stove thanks.’**

Prim beams at her sister. “Katniss, he’s happy you cleaned the stove!”

They hear the scratching of the chalk again.

 **‘Sings pretty’** is written on the board.

“Ohh, he likes your singing, Katniss!” Prim shakes her arm vigorously.

“What a relief,” mutters Katniss. It’s only partially sarcastic because if there really is a spectre in this room, she’d rather it be pleased with them than angry. Because her little threat about sending it to hell certainly isn't going to work.

“Huh, I wonder… He’s only writing in two or three-word sentences,” notes Prim. “Maybe he’s young or doesn’t know much English…” She thinks on it, then calls out, “Ghost boy, why do you write like that? Why not in complete sentences?”

Katniss rubs her temples. She can’t believe her little sister is critiquing a ghost’s grammar.

The chalk is at it again.

**‘Don’t feel like it'**

“Ohh.” Prim nods while Katniss shakes her head. This is getting ridiculous.

“I have one more question, Ghost Boy,” calls out Prim.

“Primrose, stop. It-he’s not a Ouija board...” Communicating with spirits is definitely not something she wants her sister to be dabbling in, even if she doesn't believe in it, despite the evidence slapping her in the face.

“I’m almost done,” assures Prim. And she clears her throat. “Ghost boy, do you like my sister?”

_My sister and her one-track mind...what a question to ask!_

Just then there’s a snapping sound as the end of the chalk breaks off amidst frantic scribbling on the board.

“Uh oh. I think we either made him mad or embarrassed him.”

The ghost writes something: **‘NO MORE QUESTIONS!’** (All capitalized).

Prim places her hands on her small hips. “Well, don’t lose your temper! I was just asking!”

“Prim, that’s enough.” She grips her sister’s shoulders. “Stop antagonizing it.”

“He’s not an it; he’s a he. And he has feelings,” Prim defends.

“How do you know?”

“I can just tell.”

 **‘Sorry’** is then scribbled on the chalkboard over the previous sentence.

“See.” Prim nudges Katniss. “I probably embarrassed him when I asked him if he liked you. He’s probably shy.”

Katniss sighs. This is easily the most ridiculous conversation she’s ever had with her sister, even more ridiculous than when Prim was seven and was talking about wanting to live in a marshmallow house floating on a lake of hot chocolate.

Prim raises her hand and shouts out‒even though she doesn’t need to; the ghost can apparently hear just fine‒“I’m sorry, Ghost boy!”

More writing.

 **‘It’s okay done now’** is the last thing he writes.

* * *

In the early morning hours, Katniss wrestles herself free from her mental torment and jolts awake mid-scream. She’s in her own bed, alone. Prim felt secure enough to sleep by herself, but Katniss has had a restless night.

Drenched in sweat, Katniss sits up. She’s still trying to steady her rapidly beating heart and control her breathing when she sees the glow in the darkened room. And a gasp escapes her lips upon sight of the translucent figure standing across from her bed. Briefly, she wonders if it’s yet another of her nightmarish visions. But no. The tightness in her throat and the sensation of her arms prickling suggests she’s very much awake. Besides, she doesn’t dream of kiddie things like ghosts; her nightmares are much more realistic and violent.

Still, the thing before her appears all too real; although, it can’t be…

The spectre looks like a boy, but it’s nearly transparent. She can practically see straight through it to the wall on the other side of the room, yet it has shape and discernible features. She can definitely tell it’s male, probably about her age. It- _he_ has a strong-looking, square jaw and probably had a stocky build in life, if going by the size of his essence. His hair falls in waves across his forehead, and she can’t quite tell the color of it, due to the bluish-white tint to him, but it looks to be lighter. If he is one of the Mellark boys (most likely), she assumes it’s blond.

His eyes are his most striking feature, a vivid crystal blue, despite the gauzy appearance of the rest of him. And they're staring directly at her. 

“I heard you scream,” he speaks, his voice like a normal boy’s, only with the hint of an echo.

Katniss is clenching the covers between her fists, just trying to breathe normally, and he’s watching her.

“It...was just a nightmare,” she tells him. The apparition continues to stare at her, making her shiver. “What-what are you?” she stammers.

“Well, that’s not very nice, calling me a ‘what,’” he says, “especially when I came to check on you.”

He came to check on her?

Katniss swallows down the lump in her throat. “Who, then?”

“That’s better, Katniss.”

Her name on his eggshell lips brings about another shiver. “How do you know my name?” she demands.

The spectre chuckles. “I know everything about you, _Katniss Everdeen_.”

Katniss is momentarily stricken. The spectre can’t know _everything_ about her, can it? It must be bluffing. A sense of dread...and embarrassment falls over her. What if it saw her undress? Of course, that’s the least of her worries. If the thing before her is real, she should be more concerned with it murdering her than catching a peek.

“See, I’ve been paying attention,” the ghost says. “Apparently, you haven’t.”

But it’s not a matter of attention.

Katniss thinks back on the strange happenings the previous day and on the communications with him through writing.

And here he is before her now, speaking in a completely civilized manner. She can’t believe it. Maybe if she just keeps calm and doesn’t anger him, he won’t hurt Prim or Haymitch, or her.

“I have been,” she says shakily, “but I...I just wasn’t sure you were real.”

She swears the spectre smirks at her. “And what do you think now? Real or not real?”

She’s still having a hard time believing all this, but outright saying he isn’t real might not be the best idea right now. So, Katniss decides to play along, at least until she wakes or her sanity returns. “Real,” she tells him.

A smile spreads across his pale face. “Good.”

“You’re the boy who used to live here,” she inserts, recalling the story.

“Correction, Katniss, I am the boy who _lives_ here. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Peeta Mellark.”


End file.
